Mother Dearest
by Hartanna
Summary: A follow up to the end of the book. Chris's thoughts on his mother's suspicion and rejection.


So I just finished reading Thirsty (such a good book), and that little cliffhanger was destroying my soul, so I thought I'd make a fanfic about it…. About what I imagine could happen after that last damnable

I am

So

Thirsty.

-sniff sniff- I know, Chris… I know….

The characters in this story do not belong to me. They belong to M. T. Anderson. I'm about to make a recap. If you remember everything then good. You don't need to read the italics. It might be a bit lengthy. Sorry in advance.

..:;~*~;:..

_Recap_

_They interviewed Mayor Pensonville. He straightened his tie pin. "It was a brave thing Peter Gallagher and Anthony Rigozzo did. I'd like to shake those young men's hands. It took something to stand up to these vampires. If everyone in this country had that something, then maybe, just maybe, there would be less vampires, and more—" (he hesitated) "more streets that would be safe for our children. All I can say is 'Bravo! to them' and 'Vampires beware!'" He held up a finger. "I pledge—yes, I pledge: We will not stop until our children are safe to walk on the streets at night! We are all on the lookout!"_

_I turn and see that my mother has put down her fork and is watching me. Her eyes blink quickly, nervously. "Tomorrow we're going down to see the doctor again. We're going down there tomorrow, and if it turns out that all this time—if it turns out you're a vam—" She can't say the word. Her face twists around it, looking frightened and dangerous, and it won't come out. _

"_Goddamn, Mom," says my brother, glaring at her. He slams his chair and leaves the table. _

_She points. "I'm telling you. If you're—"_

_Again she just shakes her head. _

_My father looks at his empty plate. _

(After throwing up and thinking about the situation, Jerk calls to see how he's doing. But basically, Chris ends up calling him a shit, and Jerk hangs up, insulted. In that conversation, Chris also discovers that Tom and Rebecca are actually going out now. And now I restart where Chris is panicking in his room.)

_I'm hiding behind my stereo now. Don't want to see the light under the door. _

_Night is growing thick. House is dark. Sighing breaths rising and falling in soft white throats. _

_Three right here, right in this house. _

_And I'm hiding behind the doorway. There is no hope for me. That is all I know. _

_Hiding behind the doorway. Not that I would jump at someone who came in. _

_Not that I would jump. _

_I would never jump on a member of my family and drink their sweet, tart blood. _

_I would never. _

_Soot it will be the loneliest part of night._

_Soon it will be the quiet hour. _

_My chin is wet. _

_Muscles twitch. _

_No, I think. _

_Don't do what you're. _

_Don't do. _

_No, please. _

_Behind the door. _

_I am thirsty. _

_I am thirsty. _

_Oh, god. _

_I am_

_so_

_thirsty._

..:;~*~;:..

"_It's mother will kill it. She'll just kill it…."_

It hurts. It hurts so badly. It feels like hell has nestled and settled its way into my throat, scorching, blazing, and the raspy breaths coming out of my mouth are the tortured screams of souls, damned. I am so thirsty. So thirsty.

Mom. Mom will help. But no. I've been dirtied by the fangs of a vampire. I am damned. Condemned. So thirsty. I throw my hands into my hair and drag my nails down my face, tearing flesh and muscle, blood oozing from the closing wounds. My fingers slither their way to my mouth, dipping inside so I can run my tongue along my bloody skin. This is not good enough. I'm afraid to bite my own arm like I did last time, but as the night hours fade and the morning grows on, I feel like that is the only option I have left.

The blood of the dead, my own blood, is not as appealing as it used to be, but I find that it's still decent. My fangs, so large and heavy now, pierce through the blue veins in my wrist. A natural instinct rises and I suck on the delectable nectar of my own body. With this, my vampire characteristics won't be so obvious when I go to the doctor. My blood quickly flows into my mouth, flooding it with delicious flavors with each greedy gulp. I bite myself harder, tendons breaking with a sickening squelch. No. Not sickening. It was like music to my ears. I slurp up the last bit that I am willing to take and lick the large gashes in my arm, watching veins and tendons heal, snapping back together and coiling into their original shape until my creamy white skin grows over it again. Unnaturally fantastic.

The three pulses pounding in my ears are now like dull throbs, barely audible, and I sigh with relief, a bit more satiated and tired. Actually, _exhausted _would be a better term. My eyelids feel heavy and they droop slightly. Curling in on myself behind my door, I close my eyes and relax. Sleep comes quickly, and my stress is relieved, if only for a little while.

Five hours. Six hours. How many have gone by?

Sitting up, I lean myself against the wall and rub the sand out of my eyes. Tendrils of morning sunshine leak through my blinds, illuminating my room with yellow and gray stripes. I still don't like it, this sunshine. It's overbearing and bright, and sometimes I can't help but feel like its rays or going to rake my skin and burn me.

Burn me.

Like all the others.

I shake my head in frustration. My thoughts have become puzzling and choppy. It gets harder and harder to form correct words. Everything is short… no longer elaborate and detailed like they used to be. I grind my teeth together and turn away from the single window, seeking refuge behind the door. There is none.

Absentmindedly I rub my forearms as a chill creeps into my bones. More sleep. Sleep is nice. Hesitant and slow, I ease my way back to my bed and cover myself with blankets, twisting and turning so that not a single fleck of sun shows through. This is dark. I like this. Under normal circumstances I would usually shuffle to the kitchen and chug down a bit of milk straight from the carton, later moving to the living room to watch a few reruns of some old shows I'd enjoyed a few years back, but somehow sloth seeped its way into my core, streaming through my marrow, rendering me useless.

I curl into a tighter ball and suppress a heavy shiver. So cold. Still thirsty. Want more blood.

_Tap tap. _

Someone knocks on the door, but I am far too tired to even attempt to get up again. "Come in," I call, though my voice is muffled by the sheets over my body. The door creaks open a little faster than I anticipated, so I wriggle myself out of my own cotton prison to see who has stepped in. It's Mom."

"Time to go." She says sternly, which sounds more like an order than a "I'm just telling you…"

"Why didn't anyone get me up before? I'm not even ready!"

"It's fine. It's just a checkup. You're not going to impress anyone." She visibly flinches and clutches the fabric over her chest. "Sorry. Time to go, Big Boy."

I cock an eyebrow and throw my covers off of me. They flutter down and land heavily on the floor, folding in on itself. My aching muscles scream when I arch my back and stretch my arms. My jaw gives an odd popping noise when I open my mouth to yawn. That was better than flashing my fangs and confirming her worst fears. She gives me an odd look right now. Anxiety. Sadness. Suspicion. Anger.

How can one person feel all of those emotions at once?

"Chris…" she starts, holding out her hand, tenderly.

"Yeah?"

She draws her arm back in and stares at her fist for a moment, her face scrunching up into an unfamiliar countenance that I've never seen before. Her green eyes quickly well up with tears, but she blinks them away and shakes her head. "Nothing. Sorry."

My steps are uneven as I stumble to her side. My jaw pops again when I yawn. "Well… I'm ready when you are."

As if she were standing next to some monster, she quickly hops backwards a few feet. "We're leaving now. Let's go." She turns on her heel and leaves.

Just like that? Just like that.

My pupils dilate and my eyelids drop as I watch her saunter away. Her fear was depressing. For her to be afraid of her own son, avoiding me like the plague, like a beast…. it was the right choice. I _am_ a beast. I _am _a monster.

I am a vampire.

My breath catches up in my throat and I let out a strangled cry.

_Mom… don't kill me… don't leave me… not like this…._

_Not like this…._


End file.
